


Thunder & Lightning

by GypsySisters



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Torture, You’re a good man Mirror!Lorca
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 02:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13331772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsySisters/pseuds/GypsySisters
Summary: Lorca is caught in a desperate situation. Canon divergent.





	Thunder & Lightning

Lightning coursed through Gabriel Lorca’s entire body, making him writhe in pain. And, as if that wasn’t enough, his eyes were killing him. His goddamn eyes! Each surge of electricity exacerbated the already tenuously bundled ocular nerves. But now all he could see were blinding flashes of white, spots as he’d black out, then a cacophony of senseless colors as he came to again.

Yet none of it took the memory away. He’d seen it happen, had witnessed Burnham stabbed in the back as she left the brig, saw the struggle between Tyler and the security detail. No. There was no mistaking it. He was alone and left to suffer in total agony.

Time became nothing more than an idea. Now pain was how he measured his existence. And what he held onto was that maniacal obsession with the idea that he’d chosen this pain, and that he deserved it. In his memory, Burnham died before him time and again, bleeding out on the floor, and Tyler’s dying screams echoed in his ears and he couldn’t… dammit… there’s nothing… he’s so goddamn useless! He made a bad call!

He should have warned them better, prepared them for what the Terrans were like. He knew, after all. He knew better than any of them.

He was one of them. Gabriel Lorca was a Terran, and this “new” universe was his real home.

For fucks sake, who was he kidding? He had no home. Not before. Not ever. And certainly not now. He could have had a home in the Federation. He could have made a new home for himself there. Even with the unexpected swap with this other version of himself, he could have tried to save someone, salvage something, try and make recompense for his colossal failures. But, no, apparently not. Pain was his only friend. The pain of knowing he was still alive. The pain of knowing he deserved nothing, no one, nowhere. The pain of surviving everything, every loss, only to be left with nothing and no one to share it with.

God.

Burnham.

 _Michael_.

Why did she have to die?!

Of all the people he could have lost, why did he have to lose her?

Why… why couldn’t he have trusted her enough to tell her the truth? To prepare her for what they were about to face? Why did he have to lose her? And how could he even count it a loss when she was never his to begin with?

Again the torture surged through his body, measuring out his life in agony and pain. Everything became everything else, one long scream into the void, as his vision became mottled, then blinding white, then entirely dark.


End file.
